


Comfort Doll

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: Detective John Sheppard receives a gift of hugs. Unfortunately, there's no take-backs.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 28
Kudos: 68
Collections: Story Works





	Comfort Doll

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Story Works](https://story-works.dreamwidth.org/101575.html) Comfort Challenge.

Detective John Sheppard pulled his car into the driveway. The only thing on his mind right now was the cold beer and leftover pizza sitting in his fridge. The day's stakeout had been a bust with nothing to show for it but a sore ass and a stiff back from sitting in his car for eight hours. Damn, he was getting too old this. 

John shuffled painfully up to the doorstep, glad that none of his neighbors were around to comment. It was a temporary reprieve. No doubt old Ms. Keller was watching his every move from her bay window waiting for something exciting to happen.

Every now and again she'd tried to push her home-made brownies on him. John always politely refused. He'd have been tempted if they didn't always smell like Ben-gay. Although, right now he'd risk one if it would help his back.

A huge package set at the top of the steps blocking his way. The big, heavy cardboard box looked like it had taken some hefty abuse from the Fed-Ex driver. One corner was crumpled and there were scuff marks on the bottom edge. John scratched his head. Who sent it? The ink on the label was smeared enough that it was impossible to see a return address. 

Great. Just what his back needed; fun wresting a box the size of a fridge inside the door. Reminding himself that there was cold beer and pizza waiting on the other size, John unlocked his door and gave the box a shove. It took a couple of tries and one bruising leg cramp but eventually, he managed to push it through the door and into the kitchen. 

He grabbed the leftover pizza from the fridge and took a bite of it while it was still cold. Still chewing, put the rest in the microwave to heat. Once done, John took his beer and food and sat down at the table. 

He studied the box as he ate. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out who would send this to him. It wasn't Christmas or his birthday and most of his family couldn't give a crap anyway. Friends? All married and moved away or dead. 

John raised his beer to his mouth—and reconsidered. There was a noise coming from the box. Belatedly, it occurred to him that the size and shape had an awfully strong resemblance to a coffin. 

He fished his jackknife from his pocket and circled the box. Cautiously, he worked the knife into one seam intending to split the heavy cardboard down the side.

"Is that a knife? Oh, for pity's sake be careful. I've already been subjected to potentially damaging dents from that fumble-footed Fed-Ex driver. Please—please don't damage the merchandise any more than I've already suffered." 

John's mouth dropped. 

"Well? What are you waiting for? I said to be careful, not to stop!"

"I…I'm just not used to random boxes talking to me, okay."

A loud annoyed sounding huff came from inside the box. "I'm hardly random, Detective John Sheppard. According to my protocols, I'm quite specifically yours."

"Nah, not possible," John drawled. He knew the game now. This was definitely someone's idea of a practical joke.

"I assure you my protocols are never wrong," the voice in the box snapped back.

John finished cutting down the side of the box and tore it open. He carefully pulled away the packing material. "I don't believe it. Some asshole sent me a sex doll?!" 

"Doll? I certainly am not. I am the Comfort Bionic 4000 and the very pinnacle of my line in the series," it said with disdain. My purpose is to provide _comfort_. You may call me Rodney." 

"Jeeze." John reached for his beer and finished it in a couple of long swallows. This was…this…it…damn. Aside from looking remarkably human, the CB 4000 didn't look like the top of the line anything.

At least it wasn't modeled after a tween. That would have been both uncomfortable and creepy. Instead, this model was closer to John's age in appearance. It came dressed in a standard sleeveless, grey tunic and matching pants. John couldn't help noticing its feet were bare; showing off ten perfectly shaped toes. 

The CB 4000 nearly matched John in height but was slighter thicker around the waist with broad shoulders. Its arms were well-formed with a layer of softness over muscle. John could admit that it wasn't completely unappealing. 

He scratched his head. "I just can't figure out what you're doing here." 

Rodney sighed. "Since you seem to require a certain amount of tiresome repetition—I do hope that's a temporary condition—I will repeat. My primary purpose is to provide comfort. I am fully functional by all copywritten standards with an expertise in hugs. Perhaps you need a hug now, Detective John Sheppard?"

"Maybe you'd better just call me John, and no. I don't need a hug."

Rodney looked disappointed. "Oh. It's obvious your back is troubling you. I suggest a hot shower." Rodney stepped out of the box. "Which direction is the bathroom?"

"That way."

Rodney looked pleased. "Very good. I will start the hot water for you."

"Look, you don't have to that," John protested weakly. A hot shower sounded wonderful. "I can handle it just fine without help."

"I am aware of your capabilities, John. I'm also aware that you are in pain," Rodney said with a lopsided smile. The slight defect only made it seem more human. 

"Yeah, okay." This whole situation was weird, but John knew how to pick his battles. Besides, watching how Rodney handled itself might lead to a clue as to why he'd—it—had been sent here.

*

The next day he was no closer to an answer. Aside from Rodney offering him a hug every hour on the hour and John refusing not much had changed. Bleary-eyed, John sipped at his third cup of coffee. He'd gone without sleep before, he could do this.

He clung to his cup with both hands. He wasn't as young as he used to be and the lack of sleep was catching up. All his attempts to get Rodney to desist hadn't worked, but John had a plan. What was the point of working with an entire department of detectives if you couldn't call in a few favors?

"I see you are about to leave." Rodney stepped into John's space. "May I suggest a hug before you go? You're clearly in need. The dark circles under your eyes have increased by 89% and they appear 70% more bloodshot than the average human. I daresay, your condition won't be helped by consuming yet another cup of coffee. However, a hug is highly recommended." Rodney held out its arms. 

"I'm tired because someone woke me up every hour on the hour all night long." John tried to muster a glare, but he was too damn tired. 

"Oh." It let its arms drop. "Then perhaps I should accompany you to work. You may need me available to hug at a moment's notice!" Rodney gleefully announced, his eyes brightening with the prospect. 

"No. Just no. I don't need a damn hug." He didn't. Really, he didn't. John picked up his coat and headed for the door. He refused to look Rodney in the eye and subject himself to the disappointment he knew he'd see there. 

Rodney wasn't human. It couldn't have hurt feelings. Nevertheless, guilt dogged him all the way to his office. 

*

"Sheppard!"

"Lorne."

"You look like hell," Lorne said. He sat down on the corner of John's desk.

"Yeah, well yesterday's stakeout was a bust." 

"I heard." Lorne dropped an empty folder on his desk. "Cadman and Parrish have a different lead they're following so the Chief handed off the case to them. No more stakeouts for awhile."

"Bout time. We both knew that last lead was a dead end. " John stretched trying to get the kink out of his neck. "Now if I could just get some sleep."

"Yeah, you look like something the cat dragged in," Lorne agreed. "Maybe…maybe a hug would help."

"You!" 

"Not just me," Lorne said, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"I can't believe it. You went behind my back and ordered a god-damned hug-bot for me." John collapsed back in chair stared at Lorne, completely baffled. "Why?"

"We all went in on it. Had to. Those things are expensive." The smile dropped off his face under the force of John's glare. Sobering, Lorne took a deep breath. "Please don't be mad, Sheppard. We were trying to help." 

John stiffened. "How? How in hell is Rodney supposed to help?"

Lorne grinned and pointed his finger in John's face. "See! You called him, Rodney! He's helping already!"

John buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Oh, my god. You guys bought me some kind of Build-a-Friend and actually thought it was a good idea. I hate you all so much right now."

"It's not like that." Lorne paused. "Okay, maybe it's a little like that. The rest of us, we all have families to go home to. This job, seeing the worst of what humanity can do to each other…."

He somberly shook his head. "Without getting personal, let's just say that having someone to go home to is sometimes the only thing that keeps you going. And you, John, you make such a big point of being a loner. You get bristly if anyone offers you a coffee and smiles at the same time."

"There's nothing wrong with that," John snapped. "Not everyone has to be a god-damned people person."

Lorne held his hands up like this conversation was some damn hostage situation. John sighed before admitting, "Okay, maybe you have a point."

"Don't suppose you could bring him into work someday? We'd all like to see him." Lorne grinned. " I hear he gives fantastic hugs."

"It, not him. And you're pushing your luck."

*

A week later John was at the end of his rope. Rodney had stopped waking him every hour to ask if he needed a hug, but that only made things worse. Instead, Rodney had resorted to looking up at him hopefully whenever John was in the room. 

It didn't say a word when John refused. Just stood there looking so damn downcast it made John's head hurt. 

"Fine. You can come to work with me today." John shook a warning finger at Rodney. "And don't make me regret it."

 _Don't make me regret it._ Stupid words. Stupid idea. Whatever John thought would happen today it wasn't this. 

It seemed like the entire precinct had lined up to get a hug. Everyone was smiling, acting like kids at a circus waiting for their turn at the big ride. 

As for Rodney, he was in his element and beaming so bright with joy that it made John feel like a heel. When he wasn't feeling like smacking his head against the wall. At the moment it was a toss-up.

He had so many pleas to keep bringing Rodney back that John finally threw up his hands. "Fine. Yes, I'll bring Rodney by once a week so you can all get your jollies. Can we get some work done now, please?"

It was a long month.

*

John got home, stripped of his coat, and sat heavily down on the couch. Today had started out like any other—and that was the problem wasn't it. 

He'd seen worse crime scenes. More than he cared to count, but today…. It was like they'd all accumulated to come and haunt him all at once. He let his head fall against the back of the couch and pinched his eyes shut. 

Days like this were exactly the reason he didn't allow himself to get close to people. He could lay his heart open or he could do his job. He couldn't do both. 

John opened his eyes to see Rodney standing in front of him holding out a hot cup of tea.  
"Making you tea is not typically within my parameters but since you persist in ignoring my primary function I've had to adapt."

"I didn't know you could do that. Voluntarily change your parameters, I mean." John took the cup and stared down into it. "Uh, five teabags? That's a little strong don't you think?"

"If one tea bag is good, shouldn't more be better?"

"Yeah…. Not so much." 

"Oh." Rodney at down beside him. Thankfully he didn't say a word or try to push the hugging thing. Instead, Rodney edged close enough to press up against John's shoulder. 

John sat very still. "You're warm." 

"Yes."

John would be lying if he didn't admit it felt good. And maybe, if Rodney could adapt its parameters, then he could too. 

John leaned closer and shifted just enough to press the side of his face into Rodney's shoulder and let out a shaky breath. 

Slowly, Rodney's hand came up and began gently stroking John's arm. Between the feeling of warmth and Rodney's easy acceptance, the day's build-up tension began to bleed away. No, it wasn't a hug, but one day he'd get there. 

And, when he did, annoying, stubborn Rodney would still be there waiting for him.

~*~


End file.
